knowing that, although grievously hurt there is still work to do, he gets to his feet and again unsheaths his blade. people back away, in fearaand loathing as if this were las vegas, but he executes a proper grand salute and re-sheathes. thousands of tiny diamond clear lights have appeared on [in?] the walls, rafters, ceiling -- on any surface -- backed in deepest blue and tracing accurately the sky of a moonless night as seen from the home of each of the lookers.

'that'll cause some navigational errors,' he thinks as he drifts back to his meds and his tubes.